


A Light Of Some Kind

by itsmadeofgold



Series: Light [1]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: Kradam, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-29
Updated: 2010-07-29
Packaged: 2017-10-15 22:55:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmadeofgold/pseuds/itsmadeofgold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place in the Idol mansion, following the movie-themed performance show (when Kris sang "Falling Slowly"), after which the Idols attended a movie premiere.  This fic takes place later that evening, in the room of Kradam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Light Of Some Kind

Kris knows he was acting weird at the movies tonight. He knows Adam noticed, and he knows it’s something they’re going to have to talk about.

As he walks into their room and closes the door quietly behind himself, though, he’s not sure he’s ready to talk about it. Because he is starting to think it’s going to have to be a _big_ talk.

It started yesterday. Well, OK, it definitely started a lot longer ago than that, but this particular part started yesterday, at rehearsals. Kris had felt weird and tense playing the song, which was odd because he generally found it so soothing. That was why he’d picked it, after all. He was just hitting some kind of wall, or something. Like a mental block. That night he hadn’t been able to sleep, he kept thinking about his performance, worrying, thinking it would be like rehearsals. That he just wouldn’t be able to find the zone.

Eventually he had focused on Adam’s breathing - deep and steady - and allowed it to calm him to sleep.

Today at dress rehearsal his vocal coach had told him to relax and not force it. To let the song take him where it wanted to go. It seemed like kind of cheesy advice, but it really helped. Because Kris took a deep breath as he began, and he let himself remember everything he loved about singing and about the lovely song he was playing with his fingers and voice, forgetting everything else. He’d been making this hard. It was easy, really.

When he let his mind go he was surprised at where it ended up, but only in a superficial way. Deep in his core he knew it made perfect sense for him to think of Adam in bed asleep - breathing regular and slow - when he was seeking peace.

After that performance Adam had clapped Kris on the back, beaming.

“You killed it!” he said.

Kris had smiled in return, pleased with himself and happy that Adam was pleased, too. That felt very important. “I hope I can do it again tonight,” he said.

“You will,” Adam said.

And then the show performance had changed everything. The last piece fell into place as Kris sang live on television, and once the picture was whole he couldn’t stop seeing it. He sang and saw Adam asleep in bed, and then the images kept coming. Adam laughing. Making ridiculous, stupid faces. Leaning in to the mirror, face slack as he lines his eyes. Smiling fondly at Kris when they sit together on his bed at night, talking.

He’d felt warmth growing and branching out with his understanding.

It was in their ease. It was something about how effortless it was, how... it was like they hadn’t just randomly wandered into each others’ lives. They were ready for each other in some basic way. He’d felt a ripple of it the first time they’d met, and he’d just taken it for compatibility.

Which it was. But it was more. And as he finished his song he suppressed a shiver, seeing what he should’ve known all along.

So when it came time to go to the movie premiere and smile for the cameras, Kris felt flustered. He kept catching himself staring at Adam, and while he knew it probably looked creepy or intense, he was really just fascinated. Curious.

He was seeing Adam as if he were brand new, thinking of him in a different way. He wondered if he was dreaming or temporarily insane, or whether this was something he could actually do. Maybe he’d just been swept up in a romantic moment, singing a love song.

But no, the more he looked, the more he’d known he _could_ do it. That he _wanted_ to. Because he’d stared at Adam’s lips and known he wanted to kiss them. He thought about sliding that leather jacket off Adam's shoulders and hearing it drop to the floor; feeling his warm skin under the thin cotton of his t-shirt.

He kept accidentally making eye contact and then holding it for too long, earning him several questioning looks from Adam, and one from Gokey too. He was just trying to look at his eyes.

Kris had seen enough to know, though. It had seemed to happen gradually and all at once and either way, it was done.

Now he doesn’t know what to do about it. He just stands there for a moment, turning his head to look at Adam through the open bathroom door. He’s taking his makeup off, leaning toward the mirror as he swipes at his face with white cotton.

They were quiet in the car. Kris kept wanting to say something but didn’t know what it was. Adam had this concerned look on his face but didn’t say anything either, so the silence just went on and on. When they’d gotten back to the house Adam had all but sprinted up the stairs while Kris had hung behind, talking to Allison.

He’d told himself he just needed a second to figure out what he should do once he got to the room, but that didn’t really work.

Because here he stands, in the room, still with no idea what to do.

He should just go to sleep. He should say “goodnight, Adam,” change quickly into his pajama bottoms and climb into his bed. Tomorrow is another day. He should fight it, sleep, hope to wake up sane.

There are a million reasons not to give in to this urge, no matter how important it feels right now.

The problem is he can’t think of them at the moment, and in the blink of an eye he finds himself standing in the doorway of the bathroom, two steps from Adam.

Adam looks up, locks eyes with Kris in the mirror.

“What’s up?” he says, making a last pass over his forehead before tossing the cotton round in the trash and turning to face Kris. “You OK?”

“Yeah,” Kris says. He gets stuck after that, though. Not sure yet where he wants to go with this.

“You’ve been really weird all night,” Adam says.

“You still have eye makeup on,” Kris says. Adam gapes at him for a second, his face screwing up in confusion.

“Uh. Yeah.”

“You don’t take your eye makeup off?”

“No,” Adam says, chuckling. “You never noticed that before?”

“I guess not,” Kris says.

“It looks better the longer you leave it on, you know. All smudgy-smoky-sexy.” Adam wrinkles his nose in this adorable faux-fierce look and Kris has to smile.

“It works,” he says.

“Thank you, sir,” Adam says, pleased. “You want to try it? You seem like you might benefit from a little glamor right now.”

“What are you trying to say?” Kris says, putting on a vexed look.

“Oh please,” Adam says. “Like I’d imply that you aren’t _hot._ I just meant you seem a little bummy, and it might be fun.”

“I’m not bummy. But you can dress me up if you want.”

“Whoa there,” Adam says, laughing. “I meant _eyeliner._ But good to know dress-up time is on the table. I have ideas, you know.”

“I’ll just bet.” Kris smirks, and thinks maybe that if he just lets go, if he just pushes everything that isn’t _this_ out of his mind, maybe he could just enjoy it.

He thinks maybe he’ll just do that.

“Come on with the eyeliner then,” Kris says, moving into the bathroom and hopping up to sit on the counter. Adam smiles at him, delighted, then rummages through one of the makeup bags on his side of the sink, finally coming up with a small black pencil.

Kris spreads his knees as Adam moves toward him, standing between them as he brings the pencil up to Kris’s left eye.

“Look up,” Adam says and Kris does, grateful not to have to look right at Adam while he’s so close. It’s bad enough that he can feel his breath on his face.

He wants to bring his legs together, lock his ankles behind Adam’s back. Hold him there. The desire to do it is like an actual _thing_ that he wrestles quietly while Adam moves on to line his top lid saying, “look down.”

He sees Adam’s belt buckle. The zipper on his jeans. His bare feet underneath.

“OK, other side,” Adam says, and it’s this breathy voice. Quiet. “Look up again.”

This time Adam lays his hand on Kris’s cheek, and Kris immediately feels his blood rushing to that spot, his skin heating at the touch. Adam doesn’t seem to notice, but stays focused on his work, breathing steadily while Kris struggles to inhale and exhale in the right order.

“Down again,” Adam says, even quieter this time.

Kris does as he’s told, peeking through the slits of his downturned eyes. He isn’t able to hold in the hitch in his breath when he sees the zipper, straining in a way that it wasn’t moments ago. It happens before he has a chance to censor it.

He feels Adam tense, his hand stiffening against his cheek.

“OK,” Adam says, just a rough whisper now. “Done.”

Kris swivels to face the mirror, his thigh shifting and pushing against Adam’s as he does. He smirks when he sees himself; he _does_ like the way it looks. He might even say it was sexy.

“Hold on,” Adam says, turning Kris back to face him with a touch to his chin. He reaches up and smudges the eyeliner with his fingers, quickly and gently, then turns Kris back to face the mirror. “Better,” he says.

“Yeah,” Kris says. “I think I dig it.”

Adam laughs, and it’s this quiet, whispery sound. And Kris doesn’t know when they made this transition, when this moment in the bathroom started feeling like a secret, like something intimate. It does feel that way, though. Precious and fragile.

Kris doesn’t want to break it and he doesn’t know where the boundaries are, but he knows that something has broken in _him_ tonight and he thinks he has to find out what it means. And he thinks Adam wants what he wants. And he thinks Adam knows that one way or another, something is about to happen.

Kris doesn’t know which of them is more afraid.

He turns away from the mirror to face Adam again, and the fact that he has not moved, that he’s still cozy between Kris’s thighs though his task is done, makes Kris feel momentarily lightheaded. It means he wants to be there.

“I dig it, too,” Adam says.

And then Kris is tilting his head up as Adam is moving down, and that’s it, they’re kissing. Because it’s just what’s happening, because it couldn’t be put off another minute. Kris feels it, recognizes the feeling of inevitability and relief as a lightness, a high.

After just a few beats, before Kris has had a chance to properly enjoy the moment, Adam begins to pull back, like he’s suddenly realized what’s happening. Kris makes a noise of disapproval in the back of his throat and pushes forward, coaxing Adam to stay. Adam gives in with a whine, sinking against Kris, winding his arms around his waist.

Adam moves against Kris harder, grinding into him, even as he whines into his mouth again before breaking away.

“Shouldn’t,” he says, his head bowed, forehead resting on Kris’s. He seems almost bashful.

“It’s OK,” Kris says.

Adam looks up. “It is not OK.” He is still pressed tight up against Kris, but he has stopped moving for the moment. He is breathing hard, clearly struggling, and Kris feels a pang for him. For them both.

“It can be,” Kris says, not sure whether he’s lying or not. “I think I need this. Do you feel that? Like it _has_ to happen?”

Adam chuckles once, thick and bitter. “Yeah,” he says. “I feel that.”

“I realized tonight,” Kris says in a low voice.

“It can’t work, you know,” Adam says, shaking his head. “Not in the end.”

Kris looks up at him and they are almost nose to nose, so close that it’s like there’s no room for lies between them. So, “I know,” he says. And then, “If things were different...”

“Yeah?” Adam says, smirking.

“Yeah.” Kris smiles.

“Me too.”

“Do you think we could pretend? Just... forget about all that for a little while? For tonight, maybe?”

“Pretend, Kris?” Adam says, his mouth turning down. “We don’t know how much longer we’ll have to share this room. I want to be your friend. I _love_ being your friend.”

“I love being your friend too,” Kris says. “But you’re between my legs right now and I want you to _stay._ ”

His voice breaks. He doesn’t mean for it to happen, but there it is. The sound of Kris’s strain seems to be too much for Adam and his brow furrows as he leans forward to lay a soft, deliberate kiss on Kris’s mouth. He lingers there and Kris hums into it.

And then in the moment when Kris expects Adam to pull away, he pushes forward again instead. And then again, and then Kris realizes the soft, deliberate kiss has turned into something else entirely, that Adam’s body is moving again, that he is moaning low in his throat.

Kris feels Adam grinding hard and insistent against him and realizes with a shudder that he really, _really_ wants to reach into Adam’s pants and pull that cock out. He sees it happening, imagines the firm heat in his hand and feels like he’s losing his mind with how bad he wants that.

He reaches down, palms Adam through his jeans and earns a low whine. It’s a desperate sound, and it makes Kris ache. He wants to take the sad undertone out of that noise and change it to satisfaction. He wants to take every bad feeling, every worry, and make it joy. If he could do that with his hand, his mouth, it would already be done.

He squeezes and Adam bucks into him. Kris hitches into Adam’s mouth and then begins working his zipper down, feeling high and disconnected while the pounding of his heart in his ears and the solid warmth of Adam all around him remind him this is _real._

Kris wants to remember all of this. He wants to catalogue it, keep it with him forever. The way Adam feels, his lips getting rougher and hotter the longer they kiss, his breath warm and sweet on Kris’s face. The sound he’s making - that quiet moan - when Kris reaches into his pants. Kris wants to be able to replay that in his mind forever, wants to keep it.

Everything gets blurry. It’s hot, and Kris feels like he is lost. They move together desperately, making up for lack of grace with vigor. Like they’re racing time. Kris loses track of mouths and hands, unsure how clothing items disappear or how long they’ve been doing this.

Kris moans when Adam comes, watching as his mouth falls open and his eyes squeeze shut.

He definitely has to remember _that_ forever.

Adam falls to his knees, and at first Kris thinks he is just spent, but then he feels his mouth hot on his cock and Kris bucks. It takes only a few seconds before he’s coming, seeing explosions and crying out.

He wants to scream. He wants to cry.

Adam swallows, humming, then sits back, resting against the wall with a satisfied noise. Kris slides off the counter and crawls over to join him, snuggling into his chest.

It’s OK. They can do this kind of stuff as long as it’s still right now, in the bathroom.

“You know what I think?” Adam says, after a long moment of silence.

“What’s that?”

“I think we have shitty timing, that’s what.”

“Yeah,” Kris says, sighing. “What if our timing got better, though? At... another time?”

Adam cocks an eyebrow, craning to look down at Kris. “What?”

“I just mean,” Kris says, blushing. “Things change. You never know.”

“Oh, really?” Adam says. “So you want me to hang out and wait to see if things _change?_ ”

“No,” Kris says mildly. He thinks Adam is probably hoping to start a fight to end this moment, but he isn’t going to take the bait. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that. I just mean if we found our way to each other once, maybe we will again. At a better time for both of us.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I just wanted you to know,” Kris says, focusing hard on keeping his voice even and earnest. “I’m thinking about it, OK. Just so you’re... aware.”

Adam huffs. “OK. I guess.” He shifts a bit on the floor, then groans. “Do you want to sleep in my bed? It’s still _tonight,_ so.”

Kris smiles. “Yeah.” He stands, then turns to take Adam’s hand and pull him up. He notices himself in the mirror and is startled for a moment. He forgot he had the makeup on. It’s a lot more smudged now; smoky and streaked.

“Looks hot,” Adam says, and Kris grins.

“Thank you,” he says. “So what do we do tomorrow night, then?”

“We’ll figure that out tomorrow night,” Adam says, then takes Kris’s hand, pulling him out the door, toward his bed.  



End file.
